


Field

by Schuyler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-04
Updated: 2004-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schuyler/pseuds/Schuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville's the first person Draco sees when he comes in from the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Field

1 

It was a long hard time and mostly people coped. Hannah had burst into tears when Ernie was hexed into a thousand pieces right in front of her and cried until she was thoroughly dehydrated. She hadn't returned after that. Most everyone thought that Hannah had been sent away until the war was over. Neville knew where she had gone and didn't correct anybody. This was better for morale. Morale was on the short list of things Neville concerned himself with. He'd inherited the dim tiny office in their ramshackle HQ when Kingsley had died. It was his job to be the clearinghouse. Every agent made their report to Neville, and Neville made sure that the information was properly filed and cross-referenced, so that it could be found again, so that nothing fell through the cracks. Mostly, it meant that Neville was the most valuable agent to the enemy. He was magically bound to the place for as long as this went on, and he wasn't allowed up to ground level. He hadn't seen the sun in ages (though Hermione had demanded that she be allowed to cast a Lumos in his bedroom twice a week to keep him sane). It also meant that Neville was the first person to see agents fresh from the field. 

The clock in his office said that it was two in the morning, and he did try to keep a regular sleep schedule, but he wouldn't leave the office. Hermione had been sent out with Draco to do a bit of reconnaissance at Malfoy Manor, rumored to be the Dark Lord's new stomping grounds. Draco could still get through the wards undetected. They were six hours overdue. Neville had learned a long time ago not to underestimate Hermione Granger. It was Draco he was worried for. Draco's coping mechanism (since they were eleven) had been a brash attitude and a cocky swagger. He used it on everyone except Neville. They'd come to an understanding when they'd left school, when they had chosen the same side. When Draco came back wounded and bragged that he didn't need to go the infirmary, he'd let Neville corner him in his bedroom to heal the scrapes and the stabs and the mild hexings. Sometimes, Neville would stay and talk to him, to get his mind off of whatever had happened, and because Draco seemed to be one of the few people that saw Neville as more than the job anymore. He'd stay until Draco fell asleep, and not a moment longer. 

Neville was doing some background research that had been put off for far too long when Draco dragged himself through the door. Neville immediately rose to his feet, and then felt slightly awkward standing there. Draco was dirty and cut and bruised and his hand was holding on to his wand so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. "Draco, what are you doing here?" 

"I came to give my report." 

"You should have gone to the infirmary." He stepped around his desk to where Draco stood and kept himself from reaching up to touch Draco's cheek. Draco looked like he might fall where he stood. The exhaustion was plain in his eyes. 

"Hermione's gone to the infirmary. She's not ... she got hurt pretty badly. I came to give our report." 

"Sit down, at least," Neville said, clearing a stack of books from the battered sofa pushed up against one wall. Neville grabbed his QuickQuotes quill from his desk and started it while Draco collapsed into the sofa and scrubbed at his eyes. Neville sat on the other end, turned so he could face Draco. "What happened out there?" 

"We got through the wards. There was a lot of activity on the grounds. It's definitely a meeting place, but there was no sign of You-Know-Who. Plus, they're growing some definitely dark plants in the greenhouse. Hermione will know what they were, when ... when you talk to her." 

"Were you caught?" Neville couldn't help the look of concern that flashed across his face. He mostly tried to be completely impartial during these interviews. Draco barely smiled, as if in thanks. 

"We were caught in the garden, behind the greenhouse. By my father." So this was the crux of the matter. Being captured and escaping was nothing new, the less certain of the Death Eaters seemed to have a catch-and-release policy when it came to Order operatives. The first operative to be captured and killed had been Genevieve Ste. Marie, a new enlistee from Lyons. Harry hadn't known her at all and still taken the time out of his day to kill her captors in a thoroughly unpleasant manner. Neville suspected that no one wanted to know what he would do at the death of a friend. The first concern of the Death Eaters seemed to be to save one's own skin. "He was less than thrilled to see us. He bound us, made some general remarks about the failure of his progeny, how he should have hedged his bets and had another child, and how I was still cavorting with mudbloods, and then cast Crucio on Hermione." Draco shivered at the telling of it. Neville did reach out then and touch his cheek. Draco leaned into the touch and collapsed a little bit more. "He caught my cross-cast and summoned my wand, but it was enough time for Hermione to break free of the Crucio and she ... she cast the Avada." This is why Neville had argued against the mission. No matter how bad things got, no matter where allegiances were drawn, this was the sort of thing they were supposed to be protecting each other from. "He would have killed us. It was right to do. But, Neville. He turned white and fell and his head shattered a pane of glass in the greenhouse. And there was blood everywhere." He shook hard and tried to pull away. Neville reached out to gather Draco close to his chest. Draco put his hand on Neville's arm, maybe to push him away, but instead clutched his arm hard and cried quietly. 

"This isn't the place," Neville said too quietly for the quill to pick up. "Let's get you downstairs and cleaned up and healed. And then we can talk about it." Draco nodded slowly. His hand on Neville's arm was getting cold. The last thing Neville wanted was for Draco to slip into shock. "Up. Shower. Bed." Draco just barely smiled as he pulled back and let himself be helped up. Neville wouldn't leave this time. 

*

2 

Neville had turned the shower in the downstairs bathroom past hot and stayed, staring at the door, until Draco got in. The thing had been charmed to stay on no more than ten minutes because hot water was at a premium. "Draco, come back as soon as you're done, okay?" Draco mumbled from the other side of the curtain, and Neville took that as a good sign and headed back for Draco's bedroom. He turned off the alarm clock and cast a warming spell on the sheets, and then sat in the chair beside Draco's bed to wait. It was another fifteen minutes before Draco wandered in, looking lost and cold in his pajamas. "Straight into bed with you." Draco crawled up from the foot of the bed and burrowed under the warm quilts. Almost immediately, color started returning to his face. 

He curled on his side to face Neville and regarded him silently for a while. "It was a pretty awful mission, Neville." 

"Yeah, I imagine." 

He ducked his head down towards the covers to rub at the bridge of his nose, then settled again. "It was bound to happen. I guess it's one of those big fated things that I would be present." 

"It's past now," Neville said. Seven months being the first person the agents saw meant that he'd done a lot of calming, and yet he had no idea what to do at this moment. Draco looked sort of lost and alone. 

"I'm not even sad that he's dead. I feel worse about that than anything." 

"We all make choices, Draco. He chose to do some awful things to people. And you chose to come here with us." 

"I'd rather be here with you, y'know." Draco was mumbling a bit, and paused to yawn. "With you." He shivered then, and Neville reached out to feel that the warming charm had worn off. Neville was reaching for his wand to recast it when Draco reached out his hand, palm up, and his eyes closed. Neville hesitated just a minute, then pulled off his sweater and shoes to slide under the blankets with Draco. His hand pressed up against Neville's arm and it was freezing. Neville wrapped his arms around Draco and let him slide closer. Draco looked up kind of hopefully, but Neville didn't want to let the start of them be tainted by something as awful as this day. After a moment, Draco gave up and nestled into Neville, his head tucked under Neville's chin. Draco was already warming up. 

"I'm glad you're here with us. With me."


End file.
